music

Lessons Learned in Covid City

It turns out that Covid City is not just a column to write during a short period of life in lockdown. Instead, it is our new reality for a long time yet. In the weeks since I last posted here, I have learned four crucial things for surviving this new life:

  1. It’s all about creativity. 
  2. Sleep is necessary. 
  3. Meditate as much as possible.
  4. Take the joy when you can get it. Don’t question it, just be in it.

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Big news: after a two-week spell of intense quarantining, Dave and I drove our crew to my in-laws where we finally got some back-up childcare. As I watched L jump out of the car and run off through the yard with his Papa Bob, I felt something physically shed away from me. Dave and I were EVERYTHING for these kids for five weeks straight. All of it. I hadn’t realized how weighty that was until it lifted.

We can’t completely move here for a few reasons and so the plan for now is to go back to New York when we have to and then wait and see if/when we can return. But even if we don’t end up coming back, having a few nights of real sleep has been transformative. Dave and I started quarantine as sleep-deprived parents of a new baby; in the past month, I hit a level of exhaustion I didn’t even know was possible. 

Of course there are challenges. No situation in Covid City is easy. Figuring out how to share space when all of us are in MA has been stressful. Parenting and grandparenting at the same time is weird. We’re all very different personalities, too, with different and often conflicting needs. Things are not lining up with the six of us like they have in the past, and I’m feeling confused by it. But there’s such a deep current of love underneath it all, and, as with everything, we will adapt.

78b36acb-cf00-4285-99a8-d2c429f06949And no matter what tensions may arise with our new arrangement, the fact that Dave and I got some space to ourselves changed everything. Yep, that’s right: Dave and I spent the past two nights alone in Brooklyn while other people took care of our kids. We slept, talked, drank, watched tv, had sex, meditated, chatted with friends, got all dressed up and played some music. We even ate candy in the living room and left the wrappers out on the coffee table and then the next morning, nobody tried to choke on them and nobody threw a fit that we got candy and they didn’t. I miss my kids – a lot actually – but this time to focus on other parts of myself (while eating candy with abandon) has been glorious.

This space has also allowed me to reflect on the past five weeks and think about how we can improve the indefinite span of quarantine left ahead of us. I opened this post with the lessons I’ve learned through this time of reflection. Now I want to leave you with some of my recent joys:

  • I rediscovered my passion for writing fiction and it has felt wonderful.
  • L turned five years old, and Dave and I completely rocked the whole birthday-in-quarantine thing. Gotta admit, the fact that he was genuinely happy all day long was super satisfying.
  • M talks! He says hi, mama, and dada. In that order. (I beat Dave, ha!)
  • We’re getting into a new musical project! James Kurk, the friend I have known for longer than anyone else, sent over loads of tracks for us. We had a Zoom brainstorm all together and now Dave and I are making some weird sounds over here. Connecting to creative people in creative ways is my new motto for quarantine.
  • Fiona Apple released her new album and it’s perfect for right now.

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Covid City 13: My Gratitude List

img_4455April 3, 2020, 9:30 am

I started a new practice yesterday: every time an anxious thought intrudes into my mind, I inhale, exhale, look around, and focus in on one thing I am grateful for. Then I do it again, and again, until I feel calm.

You know what? It works.

In this current moment, I am sitting at our dining table while M eats scrambled eggs and strawberries beside me. Dave is cooking pancakes in the kitchen. L is playing games on my phone on the couch. Basil is lying on the hardwood floor at his feet. The cat is sleeping somewhere, probably in my closet. No one is asking for anything from me right now, and so I could check Twitter, scan a news article, or give in to one of the many thoughts swarming my brain.

Instead, I am grateful for:

  • Our continued good health. The facts that none of us are high risk, that COVID-19 goes easy on kids, that no one is injured or in pain right now. It’s a privilege that Dave and I have a home, that we can focus on our family’s emotional process instead of on our physical health, that we’re all able to stay here and go through this together.
  • The past version of myself who went to therapy and worked hard to manage my anxiety. Thank you, young me, for establishing practices that I still use today.
  • My union-protected job. It’s easy to get frustrated by all the bureaucracy and by the assholes abusing power, but I’m glad I have these things to get frustrated about.
  • My immediate boss. Her support, understanding, and flexibility throughout all of this has been huge.
  • Journalists, academics, politicians, and everyone else who is writing and talking about how we can repair our classist, racist, colonialist country.
  • That delicious baby. Squeezing his huge, chunky, squishy thighs is like squeezing those stress-relief balls but with the added bonus of silky baby skin.
  • My precocious preschooler’s sense of humor. He is straight-up hilarious. Not just
    goofy poop jokes but well thought-out, set-up-in-advance, actually funny pranks. Then he laughs with this full-body ripple where he throws his head back and stomps a foot and my heart explodes.
  • The way my husband hugs me.
  • Also the way my husband explains audio technology to L as they set up our at-home recording studio. And then the way L proudly over-annunciates his words when sharing this new knowledge with me.
  • How my old dog cleans baby food off the floor, except for peas.
  • Hot coffee.
  • Cat purrs.
  • The strange cacophony of sound when multiple friends laugh at the same time on Zoom.
  • Sitting on my balcony in the rain, staying dry under its roof while I listen, smell, breathe, and let myself relax a little.b6fa470c-0af0-470f-a6cc-4acfa131e5f2

 

The BPRS Live TOMORROW, 10/20, 7:30 pm at Freddy’s!

Books and bands and booze, oh my! Can’t wait to perform and celebrate with y’all tomorrow, Saturday October 20th, 7:30 pm at Freddy’s Bar and Backroom. This will be the last BPRS gig for a loooong while; catch us while you can!

No cover, 21+. Words with What Doesn’t Kill You contributors Abby Maguire, Tiffany Berryman, Matthue Roth, and two-time National Book Award Finalist Eliot Schrefer. Americana tunes with Eli Bridges at 8:30, followed by experimental pop rock with duo The Brooklyn Players Reading Society (that’d be me!) at 9:30. See ya there!

What Doesn't Kill You Launch Party

What Doesn’t Kill You – New Publication and Launch Party with The BPRS (My Band)!

The past few weeks in politics have been SUPER intense and have proven to me how much we absolutely need music and literature. I am so thrilled to announce that a short story of mine, excerpted from my novel Bone Girl, was recently published in YA anthology What Doesn’t Kill You alongside 23 other authors, including two-time National Book Award Finalist Eliot Schrefer. I’m extremely excited about this book (which you can buy here, if ya want) and decided a celebration was in order, so on Saturday, October 20th at Freddy’s Bar and Backroom, my duo, The Brooklyn Players Reading Society, is hosting What Doesn’t Kill You the launch party. If you’ve ever felt like the world’s out to get you, then this book and this night are for you.


The party begins on Oct 20th at 7:30 pm with readings by WDKY contributors Tiffany Berryman, Matthue Roth, Abby Maguire, and Eliot Schrefer. Americana singer/songwriter Eli Bridges kicks off the musical portion of the night, followed by experimental pop/rock duo The Brooklyn Players Reading Society (that’s me!).

Copies of the anthology, released on Indomita Press, will be available for purchase at $16.99 a piece (cash only). No cover, 21+, 7:30-10:30 pm.

More info:
Why wait? Buy your copy of What Doesn’t Kill You on Indomita Press by visiting indomitapress.com/our-books.

Eli Bridges is an Americana folk singer/songwriter hailing from Northfield, MA and now based in Brooklyn. Learn more about him at www.elibridges.com and listen to his tunes on Bandcamp.

The Brooklyn Players Reading Society explores the intersection between literature and rock-n-roll, channeling poet songwriters like Lou Reed, Tom Waits, and Laurie Anderson. I sing and play keys, my husband drums. We’re honest and weird but throw in some pop ditties, too. Give a listen on Bandcamp.

Thanks to everyone for your ongoing support and love. I hope to see you all on the 20th. And no matter what happens, remember – keep making your art!